


Fruit Salad

by sleepyheadfan20



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Drama, F/M, Family, Interracial Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-06-06 22:00:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6771925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepyheadfan20/pseuds/sleepyheadfan20
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abbie, Crane, and their daughter, Chloe, are an interracial family in America. They have struggles because of it, but their love and honesty will make them stronger together. Read about their challenges and happy times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rice Krispy

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve decided that I’m going to write an AU fic about Ichabbie and their child’s struggles as an interracial family in America, but also with good times. All the chapters won’t be so heavy. This chapter was posted in Simply Ichabbie, but it can really work in its own story. Chloe, their daughter, is talked about in this chapter as well. I extended it to make sure she was mentioned here in this conversation. You’ll also get to know her more in other chapters. Hope you enjoy. Thank you for reading. Feel free to pitch topics I can write about. I do want to have a chapter focused on colorism, so that will be more like a mother-daughter discussion. Your ideas are welcome.

"I can finish up," Abbie said.

She took up their plates, left them on the counter. She ran some water in the sink. Crane stood. She was in one of her moods where she wanted to be alone for a bit. Something must have happened at work. She was awfully quiet at dinner, but Crane wanted to be there for her.

"It's no problem, Leftenant."

"Crane." She looked at him.

"Very well." He kissed her forehead and exited the kitchen.

****

He spotted her on the couch when he came downstairs after his shower. She didn’t join him this time. He would've given her a bath and washed her hair.

An opened Rice Krispy was in her hand. The square was bitten at a corner. Her day must've been something terrible if she ate one of those.

Abbie didn’t face him. She didn’t acknowledge him even when he sat by her. Her eyes stared down at her sticky treat. She messed with the wrapper.

"One of the white teachers at an elementary school shot four beautiful little black children in her classroom today. All because of the color of their skin and who she assumed them to be. We didn't get there in time to save them," she said.

She nibbled another bite. Crane never knew what to say when Abbie told him such horrifying stories about her job and how it affected her. He definitely didn't know what to say in this case. This was new. This hit home. He could empathize with her, but he could never fully understand its magnitude. He couldn't relate.

This especially hit home because they had a child of their own: a seven-year-old named Chloe. She wasn’t with them as of now. Miss Jenny, Abbie’s sister, wanted to keep her for the weekend. Abbie didn’t mention Chloe. He knew she wasn’t even ready to include her in this topic yet, so he wouldn’t bring her up. He wasn’t prepared himself and could only imagine what those parents felt. They’d just focus on whatever she wanted to for now.

He got on his knees in front of her. His hands sat on her thighs. He kissed her forehead. He had no idea what she felt.

She lets her tears drip down her neck. "It's 2016. This is still happening. We die all because we exist. Some people hate us, Crane. They were children. Babies.”

He touched her cheek, wished he could have done something. Saved them.

“I think of us, history, everything in the past.” She sniffs. “You would've owned me. I would've been your slave."

He couldn't breathe anymore. He shook his head and stood and paced. His fingers twitched. What could he say? That he wouldn't have done it? That her life and other African-American lives mattered? The idea of him or anyone else even owning Abbie and her family, treating them like animals and not humans of a free will....He balled his fists, bit the inside of his cheek.

"Please, don't say that, Abbie."

"Maybe you would've tied me to whipping post and beat me until sundown."

His rolled up his sleeves; his skin burned as he strode across the living room. "Stop."

"Or maybe you would've raped me. I would've bore your children." Her laugh was dry. "Children."

Why wouldn't she quite?

"Damn it, Abigail." He faced her.

"We can't ignore it, Ichabod."

"No, but...it's disgusting to even..." He sighed.

"Sit down, Crane." She put the Krispy bar on the arm of the sofa.

He bent in front of her again, grabbed her hands, and kissed them. She touched his cheek; he kissed her palm. She wanted them to have an honest conversation. He just had to admit that their race mattered, that it’s always going to matter.

"We would've been about to do this. We were against the law," she said.

He doesn't like to think about her as a....slave or segregated from him or God forbid, lynched. That was not who she was or any other African-American. No one deserved that. No one should be treated like that. It's despicable and unimaginable. Yet, as a history professor, Crane knew this was American history. It was also a part of English history. He always felt a little uncomfortable discussing that dark period with his students. How do you speak about such a horrid time?

When Black History Month came, Abbie took him to a few museums, and they'd watch documentaries and films. Crane forced himself to endure to the end. It was hard, but it was important. Abbie asked him afterwards what he thought. Something along the lines of, “Thank God this isn’t our era anymore.” or “Thank you for sharing this with me.” always escaped his mouth. He never went into detail. What could he say? If he were honest, it made him sick to know what his ancestors did to Abbie’s. He hated it. Yes, they acknowledged history and their relationship in terms of race, but they never had an in-depth discussion.

He glanced away from her, played with her fingers. It saddened him. "We were."

"Maybe we would've been like the Lovings. Interracial marriage was outlawed in Virginia and other Southern states. They got married in Washington, but when they came back, they had to leave Virginia. Eventually, they went to court about it. The Supreme Court ruled they had a right to marry and that they could return to Virginia."

He touched her cheek, nodded. "We live in that world now, where we can freely marry one another. I am most grateful for it.”

“Crane, talk to me.”

He paid attention to their hands. “I am talking to you, Leftenant.”

“Bullshit.”

He sighed.

She got on the floor with him, crossed her legs, and patted the space in front of her.

“That isn’t necessary.”

“Crane.”

He sat in front of her; she held out her hands. He took them.

“This isn’t easy for me either, but we have to. You’re angry. Me, too, but I need you to tell me. It’s how we grow from the past, how we heal, if that’s possible.”

Where does he start?

He didn’t look at her. “I note the stares we sometimes receive from others. We could be walking or dinning in, grocery shopping. I’ve seen them. I don’t quite like it. It…I get so livid.”

Some shook their heads, turned their backs, lifted their noses. Some scooted over or went the opposite direction. Some wouldn’t even acknowledge Abbie’s presence. Whenever they wouldn’t, Abbie and Crane left the restaurant or store. Forehead kisses, a squeezed hand, a reassuring smile covered the sting. He never asked her how she felt; she never told him.

“I know the feeling.” She played with his fingernail.

“Would you like to talk to me about it?”

She shook her head. He lifted her chin. “I thought we were talking.”

She smiled small. “We are talking.”

He chuckled. She bit her lip.

“At moments, it’s like I don’t matter when we’re in public. Some people look at me like… like I’m a filthy nigger.”

He clinched her hands, put them to his heart. Why would she ever refer to herself as such?

“Grace—”

“That’s the truth.”

He cleared his throat to keep his tears in check. This wasn’t about him right now. She wouldn’t let their eyes meet. Her throat swelled; she let the tears slip down her neck again, wiped her face with her sleeve.

“It angers me. It makes me feel like a dirty animal. As if we don’t belong together or that I’m beneath you. Inferior. Less than.” 

Her tears slipped out the corner of her eyes as she slightly tilted her head back. She couldn’t face him.

He took both of her cheeks. He kissed her forehead multiple times; he stared at her. His skin scalded again.

“No. Never, Abbie. You are my better half, my equal, my entirety, the muscle that makes my heart beat.”

She kissed his lips. “You’re mine, too.”

“Are you ever angry at me?”

She nodded. “You don’t defend me when it happens. You don’t defend us. I get mad at myself, too. I don’t stand up for myself or us either. We let them win. Everytime.”

It hurt to hear. She was right though.

“I am so very sorry.”

What else could he say? He was a coward. Why did he let them do that to her, to them?

“It’s easy to ignore. We pretend it doesn’t bother us and that we’re strong enough to handle it when we aren’t. It’s going to always bother us whether we want it to or not.”

“I will change that.”

“It’s something we both have to work on. I’ve done my fair share of not defending you and our relationship, too.”

She’d tell him the comments people, even some of her co-workers, have made about them and how she wouldn’t respond. “You’re dating him? A white guy?” “You’re his property, right?”, and “What do you call him? Master?” These are some of the things she’d been told.

“Maybe we do it because we want them to change their minds about us. However, some of them will never see us for us: two people in love,” he said.

“That’s the thing. We aren’t just two people. I’m a black woman in love with a white man. You’re white man in love with a black woman. We can’t help our skin color, and we can’t change the past. We can’t change the opinions of others either. All we can do is show them who we are as a black woman and a white man together.”

“Our race will always matter, won’t it?”

She nodded, and he leaned back against the sofa as she sat between his legs. He held her like he wanted to, kissed her neck. She fell back into his chest, then grabbed her Rice Krispy treat off the arm of the sofa. Split it in half. One piece was for her. She gave him the other. They chewed with one hand and watched their fingers twist and untie together on the other. 

****

Crane pulled the covers back from their bed. He let Abbie settle in first before he got in. He left the lamp on as she cuddled up to him.

“Aren’t you going to turn the lamp off?” Abbie said.

“In a moment.” He sat up with her in his arms. “We have to finish talking.”

She played with their comforter, wouldn’t look at him. “Not tonight.”

“Abbie.” He lifted her chin again. “We need to.”

Talking about Chloe was difficult for him as well. He didn’t want to think about anyone coming into a school shooting their daughter simply because of her skin color. They had to discuss it. He didn’t want to push her, but he had to.

“It’s not the right time.”

“There will never be a right time.”

“I want to go to bed.”

“You were worried about Chloe, weren’t you?”

“Good night, Crane.” She turned her back on him and lay down.

“You think someone may shoot her just as those other kids.”

“I can’t sleep if you’re talking.”

“You’re afraid someone will hate her just as much as they do us.” He paused. “A mulatto child. The nerve.”

She sat up, stared at him. “Will you shut the hell up? I don’t need you analyzing me. And don’t fucking mention Chloe like that.”

He expected this type of reaction. This is what happened when you pushed Grace Abigail Mills. She fought back. Eventually, she’ll get tired of fighting. It’s not like he enjoyed picking an argument with her or speaking such a horrid term in regards to his daughter.

“Isn’t that what she would have been referred to in the past?”

“Now you’re just being a smartass.” She stared at the photo of them on the nightstand with the lamp. They were all smiles.

Crane picked it up. “She is beautiful, isn’t she?”

Abbie was silent as she gazed at them. Her tears blurred the photo. “That could’ve been her today at that school.”

He wiped the picture. “Thank God it was not.”

He wouldn’t know what to do if it was. How does a parent handle such devastation? For someone to demonstrate such hate toward their seven-year-old or even the idea of her teacher or anyone coming into her classroom to kill her was—there weren’t enough words to describe the loss of a child, let alone the loss of a child at the hand of hatred. He dried his own tears from the photo and placed it back where it was.

“You think some people hate us because we’re together?” She shook her head. “Just imagine the stares, comments, and treatment our daughter will receive because of us, because of her race. That will affect her for the rest of her life, Crane. How do we protect her from that?”

He pulled her to him, kissed her forehead. “We can’t. I think we can only love her and remind her she is important despite what others may think. We can also pray that no harm will come to her.”

“She’s just so innocent. I just hate that she’ll be subjected to someone’s ass backward opinion of her. That’s my fucking kid.”

“Indeed. We’ll have to explain to her how it won’t always be easy for her. It’s hard for us from time to time.”

“You would think the world has changed.”

“We still have a ways.”

“I don’t think some people in the world will ever accept interracial families. Not even when Jesus comes.”

“It’s a shame.” He looked at her. “How do you feel?”

“I’m worried about her and how people will treat her. I’m always going to be mindful of that.”

“As am I. That’s why it is our responsibility to make sure she’s secure in herself and prepare her as much as we can.”

Abbie angled herself to him. “Can we say that prayer?”

He turned himself towards her, too, grasped her hands as they bowed their heads and closed their eyes. Abbie sighed.

“Dear God, please protect Chloe and all of the other children who may endure discrimination and hate because of their skin. Please be with the parents who lost their babies today.” She paused, stole deep breathes, and let go of her hand to rub her face. Her fingers were wet when Crane held them again. “Protect every child from hate. Amen.”

“Amen.”

They opened their eyes. Crane kissed her. “She is sheltered by God and His angels.”

She nodded. Crane knew that Abbie wouldn’t believe it until she saw it. He understood her doubt. How could one really be sure when tragedy could hit at any moment?

“Just have faith?”

“What more can we do?”

They lay back and cuddled again; he switched off the lamp.


	2. Fruit Salad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 with Chloe. I thought about after one of my fanfic readers spoke to me about her interracial relationship. Thank you for the inspiration. You really helped to push this story forward. :) Dedicated to you and all the other interracial families. Your story matters.

“I’ll come get you in a bit, Chloe.” Abbie squatted to kiss her daughter’s forehead. “Have fun, sweet pea.”

Their neighbor, Mrs. Sea, invited her to their house for a movie night. A few other kids from school and the neighborhood sat in the living room with their popcorn and candy. Chloe looked back at the children and then back at her mom. She shook her head. Chloe was always a bit shy, but Abbie never knew why. When Chloe began to talk in full sentences, Abbie asked why she wouldn’t play with the other kids. She always shrugged. Abbie asked if anyone messed with her, but Chloe shook her head each time. She didn’t believe her and spoke to her teachers about it. They all said the kids welcomed and played with her. Sometimes, she isolated herself though. They didn’t know why any more than Abbie did. They thought she was just introverted and liked her space. Abbie had an idea as to why, but she’d like to think her daughter’s appearance had nothing to do with it. She was lighter than Abbie, but wasn’t quite Crane’s complexion either. She’d for sure talk to him about this.

“Go on.” Abbie glanced at the kids.

They were black, white, Asian, Native American, and Hispanic. No one looked like Chloe. Should she just take her daughter home, since she clearly didn’t want to be here? She wanted to, but she also wanted Chloe to make friends. One of the kids even called her over. Abbie remembered her as Natalie. She sometimes drew chalk sketches with Chloe in their driveway.

“Hey, my special butterfly, she wants you to go watch the movie with her.” She played with the ends of Chloe’s hair, brushed her thumb across her cheek.

Chloe shook her head again and hugged Abbie around her neck. She held her daughter for a minute.

“Aww, baby girl. I’ll be right back. I’m going to go talk to daddy real quick.”

When Chloe let go of her, Abbie kissed her cheek and watched her walk away. The kids all waved at her and said hello. Chloe didn’t wave back and sat as far away as she could from them. Abbie couldn’t ignore that her daughter felt different from the other kids.

****

Some children watched the movie and chewed popcorn while others talked. Chloe sat beside Natalie, who spoke to her.

“Your mom is pretty,” she said.

Chloe nodded.

“You don’t look like her.”

Chloe just stared at her. She didn’t like it when kids pointed that out. She glanced at her hands in her lap.

“Your dad is a different color, too,” she said.

“How do you know?” said a boy with a mouthful of popcorn.

“I see him sometimes when we play with chalk.”

“Are your parents different colors?” said the boy.

Natalie shook her head. “Mine are the same color. They look like me. Are yours?”

He shook his head and asked the other kids next to him if their parents were different colors. They shook their heads.

“Why are your parents different colors?” Natalie said. “Why are you a different color?”

Chloe shrugged and stared at the movie. She played with the ends of her curls. Where is her mom?

****

Abbie shut the neighbor’s door behind her. Crane waited for her in the lawn under a tree. He watched the sun set. Her hands landed on his chest as he pulled her to him. He kissed her lips.

“How is our daughter? She didn’t seem excited,” he said.

Abbie shook her head. “She feels isolated, Crane. I’m going back to get her in a few minutes.”

There was no way Abbie would leave her daughter feeling uncomfortable.

He rubbed her back. “What is it?”

“Have you ever noticed she doesn’t interact with other kids? She barely wants to go outside to play with Natalie.”

Crane nodded. He had noticed his daughter’s distance from other children. They’d have to persuade her to join in their games. He never thought much of it.

“I thought she was always shy around other children.”

“She isn’t around us though.”

And Chloe wasn’t. She spoke to Crane in his British accent when they cooked together, whispered her funny dreams in Abbie’s ear, and sung for them when they danced in the kitchen. Their daughter was quite lively.

“Why do you think that is?” he said.

“I’m pretty sure it’s because of how she looks.”

“How can you tell?”

Abbie told him what she observed with Chloe before she came outside.

“I’d like to think kids wouldn’t pay much attention, but they do. They can be quite curious. You think they’ve said something to her about her appearance?”

“More than likely. If not about her, then probably about us. Natalie has seen us both. Chloe’s also very observant. She knows she’s different. Our daughter doesn’t feel comfortable in her skin, Crane.”

She didn’t like saying that aloud. Her daughter was so beautiful to her, a mix of both her and Crane. The fact that Chloe felt like an oddball made her sad.

“She’s the most exquisite little girl I could’ve asked for. I don’t want her to feel that way either.”

Abbie nodded. “We need to talk her, build her self-esteem. The older she gets, the more she’ll question things. She hasn’t said anything now, but soon she will, especially if kids keep asking.”

“What do we say?”

She shrugged. “Maybe start off asking questions about how she feels about her looks. Then we’ll tell her who she really is. We’ll make sure she feels damn good about herself.”

****

Abbie told Mrs. Sea she had to take Chloe home all of sudden because Jenny was in town tonight and wanted to see them. That wasn’t a total lie. Jenny was coming—tomorrow. When they called for Chloe in the living room, she ran to Abbie, who picked her up and hugged her. She kissed her hair and gave her to Crane. She put her head in his neck. He ran his hand through her curls and sighed.

“Let’s take you home, my heart.”

Abbie kissed her forehead over Crane’s shoulder and thanked Mrs. Sea before they walked home.

****

They sat her at the kitchen table, fixed her a bowl of fruit salad. As she ate, they sat in front of her. Crane and Abbie glanced at each other; Chloe looked between them.

“What’s wrong?” she said.

Sometimes she was too smart for her own good.

“We want to talk to you about something important,” Abbie said.

“Like a grown-up discussion you and daddy have?”

Crane nodded. “Sort of. It’s about you, too.”

“Am I in trouble?”

“Not at all, but we need you to be honest with us. Try to tell us everything you feel. Okay?” Abbie said.

She hoped she wasn’t asking too much. What if Chloe didn’t want to talk about it? She could shut down if she felt scared or nervous.

Chloe nodded.

“Before I left to go speak to daddy, you didn’t want to go watch the movie with the other kids. Then when you finally joined them, you didn’t sit by them or speak to them. Can you tell us why?”

Chloe chewed and shrugged. Abbie didn’t want to push her too hard, but she had to know what was going on.

“We won’t be mad at you. Understand?” she said.

She didn’t look at them. “I’m a different color. You and daddy are different colors.”

Abbie and Crane’s eyes met. Kids have definitely been saying stuff to her. She didn’t think the kids were mean. Their questions, however, probably made Chloe feel ashamed of herself. She took a deep breathe; Crane squeezed her hand.

Crane said, “Yes, but we love each other, and we love you. You’re a mix of both of us. Does that make sense?”

“A little.” She put her fork in a grape, glanced back at them.

“I’m black. Daddy is white. This means you are black and white. We are kind of like the fruit salad you and daddy make. You use all kinds of fruit, right? Bananas, oranges, grapes, peaches, apples. When you mix them together, it becomes really special.”

“Am I special like the fruit salad?” She stuffed a peach in her mouth.

“Most definitely,” Crane said. “You are quite special. Do you ever feel like you are not?”

Her eyes stayed in her bowl. “At school. And at Ms. Sea’s house.”

“Who said that we were different colors?” Abbie said. 

“Natalie. She said her parents are the same color. The other kids said that, too.”

“How does this make you feel?” Crane said.

“I feel sad.” Her eyes wouldn’t meet theirs. “Ugly. I don’t look like you or mommy.”

Abbie swallowed the lump in her throat; Crane shook his head and walked to their daughter’s chair. He picked her up and left the kitchen. Abbie followed them to the guest bathroom. They all stood in front of the mirror.

“Look at you,” Abbie said. “We don’t see anyone ugly. We see a very pretty little girl. It’s alright if you don’t have the same skin color as us. We love you just the same. You still have so many parts of us.”

“Where?”

“You see your eyes?” Abbie said.

She nodded.

“They are just like your dad’s. And how tall you are? You’re tall like him. You have my lips and my nose. You see?” she said.

Chloe studied her parents, then her own face. She put her hands under her eyes, touched her nose and lips. She played with her curls.

“Do I have your hair?”

“Yeah, it’s curly like mine.”

“I’m pretty?”

Abbie kissed her forehead. “You are so beautiful. And you’re just as beautiful on the inside, too. You are very smart and kind and funny. You are unique. That’s a wonderful thing to be. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Do you feel a little better, my heart?” Crane said.

“Yes, daddy.”

He kissed her cheek. “Good.”

“We love you, sweet pea.”

“I love you, too.” She kissed their cheeks. “We are like a fruit salad.”

Abbie nodded as all of them glanced in the mirror. “Like a fruit salad.”


	3. S'mores

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. Finally an update for this one. Enjoy. :)

“Are we almost done?” Chloe said, tugging Abbie’s hand.

Abbie kissed her daughter’s forehead. “Almost. We have to pay for these.”

She held up the basket of items in her other hand. Like Crane, Chloe had a sweet tooth as well. It was her turn to select a dessert for dinner tonight. She always got her favorite: s’mores. 

“Then we can eat them after dinner,” she said.

“So you say, Chlo.” Abbie tickled her neck.

She giggled and held her hand again.

Abbie already knew her and Crane would sneak a piece of chocolate or a marshmallow. She’s literally caught them with their hands in the cookie jar or with a mouthful of brownie fudge ice cream before dinner on more than one occasion. This would be no different.

In front of them, two middle-aged white ladies spoke to each other. One was the cashier; the other a customer. They discussed a coupon deal and a wedding. Giggles followed. Then the cashier finished checking out the customer, handed her her bag. She left with a smile.

Chloe helped Abbie put the items on the conveyor belt. A frown coated the cashier’s face when she saw them. Her wrinkles frowned, too. As she scanned their three items, Abbie already knew what the problem was. She braced herself, tried to be polite anyway.

“You having a good day, ma’am?” she said.

The lady shoved their groceries in the bag, pressed buttons on the keyboard. She snatched Abbie’s cash from her and returned her change. Abbie glanced at Chloe, who squeezed her hand. She smoothed down her hair, kissed her forehead.

“Do you like s’mores?” Chloe said to the cashier.

She glared at her. Abbie pulled Chloe to her hip. If this woman said anything out of the way to her daughter, she wouldn’t be responsible for her actions. When she didn’t hand them their bag, Abbie said, “Can we have our groceries, please?”

The lady ushered the next customer. Abbie snatched her bag. Before she walked out the door, she glanced at the customer who waited behind them. The lady smiled and spoke to him. He was white.

****

Abbie gripped the steering wheel, breathed. It’s one thing for her to experience racism, but her child was a different story. She never wanted Chloe to experience this. How was she even going to explain this to her? Her and Crane never had any problems shopping here like they’ve had elsewhere. She hadn’t even seen this lady around. Maybe she was new or worked in another part of the store. It didn’t matter now anyway. They weren’t going back. She put the car in drive.

“Do you want a marshmallow or anything before dinner?” Abbie said.

“Why wasn’t she nice to us, mommy?”

She sighed, exited the parking lot. “That’s just how some people are sometimes.”

****

Abbie slammed the door when she and Chloe walked inside the house. She dropped the bag by the door. Crane came from the kitchen, wearing an apron and holding oven mittens. 

“What’s wrong with my loves?” He kissed Abbie’s lips and Chloe’s forehead.

“This lady was a big meanie.”

He glanced at Abbie.

She nodded, then said, “Baby girl, I’m going to need you to go upstairs for a bit. I have to talk to daddy.”

“Okay.” 

Once they were alone, she told him everything.

“Her behavior was despicable.” He put his hands on his hips, paced. “She should be fired immediately. What did the manager say?”

“You think that’s really going to do anything? You can’t change a racist, Crane.”

“No, but we can make sure they never find work again. I’m certain her boss could’ve done something.” He hugged her to him, touched her cheek. “Sometimes, I despise the world we live in.”

“Do you want to know the scary part? I think I’m getting used to it.”

She’d never be okay with racism. It was too ugly. But because of her relationship with Crane, because she was black, and because she had Chloe, she expected the stares, the comments, and the rude behavior sometimes. It was a pain in the ass, yet what she’ll always have to deal with individually and with her family. 

Crane shook his head. “You should never have to get used to that and definitely not Chloe.”

“What the hell are we going to tell her? She’s still getting comfortable with her identity. Explaining that some people hate me, hate us together because of our skin may impact her. This could be damaging.”

Chloe has been getting better about accepting her appearance, though she still nitpicks. One day she’ll want brown skin like Abbie or she’ll want straight hair like Crane. They remind her she’s fine the way she is, that she has physical traits of them both, and that one isn’t better than the other. Some days she didn’t say anything at all about how she looked. They took it day by day.

“Unfortunately, we have to tell her how this world can be,” he said. “I don’t want to any more than you do.”

Abbie bit her lip. She didn’t want to have this kind of discussion with Chloe. It was all they could do to prepare her though. It wouldn’t go away.

“She’s only a kid. It pisses me off. Already she has to be mindful of how people will treat her because of who she is. The world is pretty fucked up.”

“Indeed.”

“Where do we start?”

“We’ll play it by ear. We’ll let her ask her questions, then do our best to answer them.”

She pecked his lips. “Alright.”

“Chloe,” Crane yelled up the stairs.

****

They sat at the kitchen table. Abbie had a feeling this would be the spot where they’d have a lot of talks with Chloe and where she’d shared things with them. This was where they conceived her, so she guessed it made sense. She couldn’t wait to see their daughter grow up, become a woman. There was no rush for that, of course. She wanted Chloe to stay as innocent as possible. Protecting her was her and Crane’s job. As much as they wanted to, she knew they couldn’t do that forever. It saddened her, especially in this case. This was one of those times where their protection wouldn’t do much for her.

“I know what happened at the store bothered you,” Abbie said. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Chloe nodded. “Why was she mean to us?”

Abbie played with her hands, glanced at Crane. He rubbed her knee. She wasn’t ready to tell her this. It was one of the worse things they could talk about.

“Some white people, like the lady in the store, don’t like black people, like me.”

“Daddy likes you, right?”

“Yes, baby girl. He does.”

“Your mother is very special to me.” Crane kissed Abbie’s forehead.

“She didn’t like you because of your skin?”

“Exactly,” Abbie said.

“She didn’t like my skin, did she?”

Abbie squirmed in her chair, shook her head. “No, baby girl, she didn’t.”

“We’re nice.”

“Yes. However, that may not matter all the time.”

“Don’t I look like daddy a little bit?”

“You do. You also favor me. Because of that, some people won’t like who you are. It’s not nice, but unfortunately, some do not like black and white people.”

“Why?”

Abbie took a deep breath. This was hard. Crane ran his hand down her back.

“It is because some people do not like your mother and I together,” Crane said. “Does that make sense?”

“But why?”

“It’s because of how they were raised by their parents. Some parents teach their kids to hate other kids who don’t look like them. Then when these kids get older and become adults, that’s how they continue to think,” he said.

She nodded. “Do you hate people who don’t look like you?”

“No, my heart. You shouldn’t either. We are all different,” he said. “Not everyone comes from the same place and speak the same language. It’s important to embrace differences from everyone. That’s how we learn about others and ourselves.”

“You love mommy?”

“Very, very much. And I love you.”

“Do you get all of this, Chloe?” Abbie said.

“Yes.”

“Can you explain it to me?” she said.

“You said that some people don’t like you or me because of how we look. And that some people don’t want you and daddy together.”

“Can you tell me why that is?”

“Because of what their parents taught them.”

“How do you feel about this?” Crane said.

“It makes me sad.”

Abbie nodded. “Me, too. Do you know why it makes you sad?”

“It’s not nice. What did I do?”

“Nothing, Chloe. You did nothing wrong. And remember that you are unique. That’s okay. Alright?”

“Alright.” She stood up and walked to them. After she grabbed one of Abbie and Crane’s hands, she squished them together. Then she positioned both of her hands on the outside of theirs. Kind of like a sandwich.

“We go together like s’mores. Mommy is the chocolate, daddy is the marshmallow, and I am the graham cracker. They are good. We are good.”

Abbie couldn’t help but smile. Crane did the same thing.

“Everyone doesn’t like s’mores. They may even like one part of the s’more more than the others,” Abbie said.

“Are you okay with that?” Crane said.

“Yes. I still love all of the s’more anyway. It is special to me. They go together.”

Abbie kissed her cheek, stared at their hands. “They sure do, baby girl.”

****

“Do you think she really understands?” Crane said, loading the dishwasher.

She passed him another plate. “I do. I didn’t know how she’d react. It wasn’t easy, but I’m glad we talked to her.”

They also gave her some tips on how to respond to people like the lady at the store. They told her to be kind, as hard as it may be and to not stoop to their level. In addition, they reminded her she should tell them, the teacher, or anyone else in charge if someone is mean to her because of her looks. She said she would.

Crane closed the dishwasher. “Do you think she’ll be okay in this world?”

Abbie held his hands, kissed his lips. “I think so. As long as we continue to build her self-esteem, keep the communication open, and let her know we’re behind her, she’ll be fine.”

“My sentiments exactly.” He paused, looked at the table. “This is the second time we’ve had an important conversation with her here. I can’t wait for other talks to come, the memories we’ll share.”

“Some won’t be so pleasant, but some will be. Speaking of memories, how about we share another one here?” She sat on the table with her legs open for him.

He fit between them, kissed her as he spoke. “And another and another and another.”


	4. Princess Tiana (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't updated this story in ages. Thought I would. Hope you all are enjoying my new Ichabbie fic "Strings." If you haven't read it yet, please check it out. It's not an easy read. Deals with racism in the 60s, but I do hope you'll take that journey with me. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Will also finish and post part 2. :) I'll think I'll update "Brownies" next. That one is long overdue. :)

"When do you want to go costume shopping?" Abbie said, placing cereal and juice in front of Chloe.

"I don't know." Chloe moved her spoon around in her bowl.

Abbie asked her this all week, and she gave her the same answer.

"It's one of your favorite days," Abbie sat beside her.

She shook her head. "I'm too old for it now."

"You weren't too old for it last year at fifteen." She touched her cheek. "What's wrong, baby girl?"

"I have to get to school." Chloe stood.

"Not until you finish breakfast."

"I'll eat at—"

Whenever Abbie crossed her arms, tilted her head, and pursed her lips, Chloe dared not debate with her. She sighed, sat back down.

"What happened? You only get uninterested in things all of a sudden when you're not okay."

"I'll miss the bus."

"I'll drive you to school."

"There'll be traffic. I can't be late for first period."

"You don't like math. Any other day, you're dragging your feet to leave on time. And I know you don't have any more excuses, so you may as well talk to me before we leave. We have a full 20 minutes."

She picked up her glass of juice, mumbled, "Damn."

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"Thought so." She paused. "What's bothering you?"

She watched the colorful puffs of cereal bob in the milk and bit her tongue to keep from crying, but the tears came anyway. Like Alice, she thought she would flood the house with all her crying. Abbie hugged her and kissed the top of her head.

"Good morning, my loves. What's for—?" Crane stopped in the entrance of the kitchen. "What happened?"

"I'm taking care of it."

"But—"

"Go," she said.

His shoulders fell. Then he walked over to kiss Abbie's lips and his daughter's cheek. Before he gave them space, he grabbed a muffin and a cup of coffee.

Abbie waited for her daughter to speak. She knew when to push and when not to.

"I wanted to be Princess Tiana for Halloween. It's silly, shouldn't bother me. Some black girls teased me. They said I think I'm all that because of my skin complexion. And that Tiana wasn't a half-black girl. I'm too 'light' to be Tiana. She's a 'real' black girl unlike me. They said I was misrepresenting her."

Abbie breathed deep. Some parents needed to teach their fucking kids some damn manners. Chloe's been sensitive about her identity ever since was little. Her and Crane made sure to remind her that she didn't have to be ashamed of who she was. Abbie prayed she believed that.

She lifted Chloe's chin. "Listen to me. You are a black girl just like them, just like Tiana. You are no different and have the right to own your black heritage, too. There is nothing wrong with you. Do you hear me?"

She nodded, wiping her face.

Abbie kissed her forehead. "I love who you are."

"Mom?"

"Yes, baby girl?"

"Don't be mad, okay?"

Abbie held her breath.

"Sometimes I resent you and dad. When I'm at school and I see the white kids or the black kids, I wonder where I belong. If you and dad were both black or both white, I wouldn't feel so confused, so odd, like I have to pick."

This hurt as a parent. What could she say to make Chloe feel better? Sorry? It didn't feel like enough.

"I'm not mad at you. You have the right to feel how you feel. I'm glad you told me. It doesn't make me love you any less." She sighed. "It's been a heavy morning. How about I take you to Jenny's? Give you a day off? You don't have any tests or projects to complete do you?"

"No."

"Good. I'll send a message to your teachers. I don't want you to go to school with all this on your mind. Go pack a bag. We'll talk more later." Abbie kissed her cheek.

Chloe got up while Abbie took out her phone. She e-mailed all her instructors and called her job, explaining she'd be late due to a family emergency. Then she got Jenny on the phone.

"I'll kick their asses," her sister said.

"You'll ask questions later, huh?"

"Damn straight. That's my fucking niece."

"I hate it, too, but you cannot just go up to that school, Jenny."

"So you say. But, yeah, bring her over. I'll take care of her."

"Alright. Don't corrupt my baby, Jenny."

"No promises."

"And wipe that smirk off your face."

Jenny laughed. "I'll see you two soon."

They hung up. Then Abbie went to the study, where Crane normally was if he wasn't in the kitchen.

"Hey."

"Good morning, my dear. Is everything all settled?" He held out his arms for her.

She went to sit in his lap. "No. Chloe's going to Jenny's today. Kids haven't been nice to her at school. They've been saying mean shit about her. We'll talk in detail when I get back."

"I wish our daughter didn't have to endure such unkind behavior from her peers. "

"Yeah. Me, too." Abbie stood up. "I'll see you in a bit."

****

When Abbie got home, her and Crane sat in the living room. She caught him up on the conversation she had with Chloe.

"When will children ever learn to mind themselves? Words have consequences for others."

"She said something else, Crane."

"What?"

She told him. He was speechless like her.

"I didn't know she felt that way, that it bothered her to that extent, to the point where she's been upset with us. But I can't change who I fell in love with. And I don't ever want to." She put her palm to his cheek.

He kissed it, held her hand in his. "Neither do I. You are my entirety."

"I did wonder if we made a mistake though. She's suffering, Ichabod."

"Then we will stand by her in all the ways we can. However, we can't hold ourselves accountable for the way someone else thinks about her. That is not our burden."

"You're right. Yet, it would be a bit easier for her if we had the same skin color. I did think that in the car." She sighed. "I don't know what to do. I don't know how to help her. We have her in therapy and she has group with other kids who are biracial like her. Will she ever realize she's amazing? Are we not telling her enough? Am I not doing my part as her mother? What is it?"

It saddened her to think about it. She wished Chloe had more confidence, yet she knew it would take time. This wasn't going to happen overnight. She didn't like that Chloe would have to battle with this for the rest of her life.

"Unfortunately, we can't force her to see herself as we do. It's going to have to come from Chloe. One day, she'll realize for herself that's she truly special. She came from love. I hope she can be proud of that."

Abbie nodded. "She deserves to be Princess Tiana. I don't give a damn what anyone says. She's not really in the mood for dressing up, but I think I'll find her a costume anyway after work."

"Absolutely."

****

"Can I come in, kiddo?" Jenny said in Chloe's doorway.

"Sure." She muted her television as Jenny sat on her bed.

"Your mama told me everything. If you need me to, I'll go up to your school. I'll have a nice…. chat with those kids who said that about you."

"You can't beat up minors, Auntie Jenny. You'll go to jail."

"I've been in-. Nevermind. Bad story." Jenny took her hands. "Anyway, I came to tell you don't let what they said bother you. It sucks now. You may think you'll always feel this way about yourself, but you won't. As you get older, you'll see your identity for what it is; you'll love it. And as for how you feel towards your parents. Just remember they love you. Don't be too mad at them. It's not their fault the world is still fucked up. It's not yours either. Okay?"

Chloe nodded. She felt a little guilty for thinking that way toward her parents. All they've given her is love and support. She knew they weren't to blame. That's just how she felt at the moment.

"So, for now, fuck those kids?"

"Abbie is going to be pissed I let you say that, but yes."

"She doesn't have to know."

"I'm such a bad influence."

Chloe laughed. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Jenny shook her head, smiled, and stood. "You finish breakfast? I can make you some French toast and bacon."

"And a mimosa, too?"

Jenny stared at her with wide eyes. "You're trying to get me killed again, huh?"

"Just joking."

"You better be." Jenny chuckled. "Come on."


	5. Princess Tiana (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last part and maybe the last chapter of this particular fic. I'm not sure yet. This feels like a good place to end it though. If it is, thank you so much for reading it and coming along with me. I hope you liked the ending. If it isn't the last chapter, then I'll be back. Enjoy. :)

"Coming to pick her up?" Jenny said, letting Abbie and Crane inside.

"It's the weekend. She can stay if she wants. We just wanted to drop this off. How is she?"

"A little better. She's upstairs."

"Thanks, Jenny."

They went up to her room, knocked on her door.

"Come in." Chloe sat up when she saw them, made room for them on the bed.

"Hey, baby girl. You doing ok?"

"I'm alright."

Crane kissed her forehead. "We bought you something."

Abbie handed her the bag. "Go try it on."

She glanced in it. "But—"

"I know you're not really up for it," Abbie said. "I wanted to get it for you anyway."

Chloe nodded and walked out the room. Crane and Abbie stared at each other.

"We shall see what happens," he said.

Abbie sighed, nodded.

After Chloe came back, she looked in her mirror. Abbie thought that costume belonged on her daughter. She stood behind her.

"You look beautiful."

Chloe shook her head. "That's corny."

"It's true, my dear." Crane joined them.

"How do you feel?" Abbie said.

She played with the flower on her dress. "It's pretty. Thank you."

"But?"

Chloe looked away. "I don't feel like I'm enough."

"Baby, you are. You are more than enough." Abbie played in Chloe's hair.

Crane nodded.

"I'm still bothered by the comments. It'll take time for me to get into myself, to be comfortable. It's a process. Just promise to still be there, to still remind like you are now?"

"Always," Abbie said. She kissed her check. "You deserve to be Princess Tiana like any other black girl. You are no different. Remember that."

"And about what I said earlier. About how I was sometimes mad at you and dad. I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings with that."

Crane touched her cheek. "If we are being honest, we were surprised and hurt. However, we knew it wasn't intentional. We want you to tell us how you feel regardless if it hurts us or not. Otherwise, we wouldn't know how to make things better. Communication is the key. Understand?"

"Yeah."

"I'm glad you told me. No matter what you do or what you feel, we'll love you regardless," Abbie said.

Chloe turned around and hugged both her parents. "Thank you."

"It's what we're here for, baby girl."

"So, auntie Jenny said Johnny's is having free pizza night and a costume contest. Could we go?"

"Sure," Abbie said.

"Could I have a minute?"

"Of course." Crane took Abbie's hand and they left her room.

Chloe examined herself in the mirror. Touched her eyes, looked at her lengthy arms and legs that were like her dad's. She poked her nose, skimmed her lips with her fingers, and pushed her curls over her shoulder, which were like her mom's.

"Like a fruit salad," she said.


End file.
